Dark Blue
by xwinter.phoukax
Summary: Alfred is the son of a talented, but relatively unknown tailor in London. Arthur is the Crown Prince of England who has grown bored of his tedious palace life. When worlds collide, no one knows what will happen. AU. Rated M for yaoi in later chapters. Don't like it, don't read it./I am /so/ sorry, but this story is on hiatus until further notice. Please don't hate us for this.../
1. Blue eyes

Disclaimer: We don't own Hetalia, unfortunately. It belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya.  
Note: This fic is roughly based in the 1800's. Alfred is the son of a talented, but relatively unknown tailor in London. Arthur is the Crown Prince of England who has grown bored of his tedious palace life. When worlds collide, no one knows what will happen.

Alfred Jones had led a simple life in London as a child. His parents weren't the best off, but they managed to provide for their two children. His father was a talented, relatively unknown tailor who taught Alfred the trade. No one except his parents had thought would ever amount to anything as he grew from childhood to his teenage years. Then, everything changed when he was apprenticed to the royal tailor at the age of sixteen.

Mr. Bailey had been perusing the local shops when he noticed the blonde youth working diligently on a fine tailcoat. He wasn't entirely sure what drove his decision at the time, but would later realize that it had been the fire in those blue eyes; the boy had a passion that was lost on this shop. After speaking with Alfred's father, Mr. Bailey arranged for Alfred to come work at the palace.

The Prince of England. The Son of the king. That was what Arthur was called... and every day was like any other. He got up at seven, got breakfast and, then, school. Of course, he was home schooled. Every day, it was the same. It drove the prince of sixteen years to utter sickness. Though this day, was different…

Arthur was sitting in his big room, reading. This was here he lived, in his beloved fairy tales about love, magic and much more. _Knock, Knock_. It sounded when someone hammered their knuckles against the door to his room. It was his father. He talked about a new tailor. How boring…

Alfred soon learned his duties as an apprentice and proper etiquette before meeting the king for the first time. He kept his head down, wishing for nothing more than to return to his home and family. He missed Matthew the most and wondered rather often if his shy little brother was alright. He'd taken up singing while he worked, as long as no one else was in the room.

One morning, Mr. Bailey announced that he would have to go up to meet the prince and get his measurements.

"The Yule Ball is in two weeks," his master informed him as he handed Alfred a kit, "And King Aston had requested a new tailcoat for the young master."

Alfred took the sewing kit and headed out of their quarters. He had to ask one of the maids for directions to the prince's chambers. The young girl laughed quietly before telling him. Eventually, he made his way to the correct wing of the castle and knocked softly on the oaken door.

A sigh left Arthur. Again? There was no way he could get any privacy. Though, he gently closed his book, Romeo and Juliet, placing it on the nightstand. It was his favorite book. The love story, the plot… It was perfect! He had read it 6 times if not more!

He took a deep breath, stood up and walked to the window, stared out for a second before finally allowing the unknown to come.

"Yes?" he just said, turning his head slightly to see who it might be.  
A maid? A servant? His father? It might be his father; the winter ball was this month and he kept talking about it.

Alfred let out a breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding and opened the door. For a moment, he completely forgot himself. The prince was silhouetted by the soft sunlight filtering in through the window. The light shimmered off the prince's hair so that it seemed to glow. Alfred recalled his manners that had nearly been beaten into him and bowed deeply.

"Please forgive the intrusion, but my master sent me to take your measurements, sir," Alfred tried not to stutter as he spoke.

Arthur eyed the other. They were probably the same age, more or less. Arthur took a deep breath as he stared at the male. He was blonde... blonde hair and blue eyed. Eyes that shone in the darkness and reflected the light… they were like the sea.

The prince coughed and glanced away, "Very well…"

Arthur thought it might help Alfred if he undressed since it would be more precise. He walked behind the curtain and stripped himself down to his underwear.

The room was hot. Was it the sun? _'No.. It was winter,'_ he nervously thought, _'But why?'_ He walked to Alfred, stared at the man for a second before blaming him for staring.

"What are you looking at?"

While he waited for the prince to reappear, he sat the sewing kit down on a nearby table and pulled out a measuring tape and his notebook. Alfred took extreme care not to spill anything from the ink well as he placed it on the table. He scribbled down the list of measurements he would need to complete the new outfit, then turned as he heard the prince returning.

It took all his willpower not to turn back around at the sight of the prince's pale, toned chest, "N-nothing, sire."

Arthur chuckled softly and steppped up on a little stool. Arthur had no hair on his body, except a little trail of hair that was showing.

"So tell me, uh…?" Arthur thought for a moment, his father did tell him his name, but Arthur had forgotten it. Luckily, it came back and he remembered it, "Alfred... Tell me, is this for the winter ball?"

Of course, it was. Well, he was almost sure of it.

But something caught Arthur artistic eye; Alfred's body. He was thin, yet strong. He had strong, but not muscular arms and he was tall. He could be a knight. Arthur had something for bodies, not only for if it was sexy or not, but the body; how a person was build up. Alfred's... was perfect. He wanted to draw him, so badly.

The prince shook his head, now a bit embarrassed for staring at him.

"It is, sire," Alfred managed to say as he ducked behind the prince, surprised that the noble knew his name.

It made him nervous, the way the prince had stared at him. His fingers ghosted across the prince's back as he took several of the measurements, then walked back to his notebook to jot down the numbers. Alfred tried not to dwell on what he'd overheard the maids talking about earlier that day. King Aston had arranged with the king of France that he and his daughter, Jocelynn, to be at the ball. His mind turned back to the task at hand, collecting the remaining measurements quickly.

Arthur's cheeks turned pink when he felt Alfred around him, measure him. He could swear he could feel Alfred's breath against him. Of course, he couldn't though. Why did he feel so nervous and so insecure about his body and looks? What if Alfred was judging him? _'No…'_ he sighed. Arthur moved the waistband of the boxers slightly down, few centimeters since it started to itch.

"So, will you design it or will it be my father or…?"

He kind of hoped Alfred would do it since he ended up in pink colors when his father decided and well… no.

"Master Bailey will most likely handle the designs, but I will be the one tailoring it," he spoke softly as he kept his eyes on his notebook.

Alfred checked his list once more to make sure that he had everything written down before he repacked the kit. He turned to face the prince once more, noticing the faint blush on the noble's face. _'What… what had inspired that reaction?'_ he wondered worriedly. He wasn't entirely certain.

Arthur stepped down from the stool, sighed. He had chosen to ignore the blush, to pretend like it was nothing.

"Could I..." Arthur hesitated.

'_How should I ask? The Prince of Britain, wanting to draw a silly little tailor?' _It was stupid, wasn't it?

Though he asked anyway, "You know, I have always loved to draw, but I need a model. I need to learn the anatomy. Could I draw you?"

Alfred's eyes widened a bit out of shock. Was that all? He had no idea that the noble was interested in art until that moment. It made him wonder why the prince wanted to sketch _him_, as opposed to any of the other fine nobles who lived on the grounds. He looked to the floor, trying to maintain his composure.

"I-I would not be opposed," he mentally cursed at himself for stuttering, "If I may… why me?"

Arthur rubbed his thigh out of old habit and sighed before walking around Alfred, looking at him, "You aren't like the others; you are special. I mean, nobles don't believe in art and they won't let me study anatomy… but if you…"

He chuckled softly, offering Alfred the most soft, warm, gentle and kind smile. His green eyes were almost shimmering.

Alfred shivered slightly, feeling rather than seeing the noble's scrutiny. _'Special?'_ he thought as his worry increased to something akin to anxiety. He fidgeted and looked up at the prince circled back into view. The smile on the noble's face stunned him into silence. His worry reflected in his cerulean gaze.

Arthur tilted his head in an adorable way before he walked off to get dressed again.

"So, can I draw you? I have always wanted to play music, but my father gets angry whenever I play, so I can't. I decided to draw, and realized I was talented, but I need to learn the anatomy," he walked back to him, chuckled, "So please?"

He walked to his bed, grabbed his sketchbook and a pencil, "Please sit down on my bed."

"I suppose so," he said nervously and followed Arthur to the bed and sat down a little ways from the noble.

Alfred tucked a bit of his hair behind his ear, glancing sideways at the prince. Refusing the noble was out of the question, after all. Still, he had no idea what to do, so he placed his hands in his lap and waited. He hoped that Mr. Bailey wouldn't be too cross if he spent some time with the prince.

"Could you undress yourself? I can't see your body if you don't," he smiled and wrote few notes on the paper.

Arthur didn't pay much attention to a body when he drew. Well, not usually but maybe it would be different with Alfred.

Arthur hummed softly, smiled, "You can stay in underwear if you do not wish to show me your... um..."

Awkwardly he glanced down at his paper, waiting for the blonde to undress.

"E-excuse me?" Alfred looked up with wide eyes and blushed.

His heart felt as though it was trying beat out of his ribcage. Panic caused his thoughts to jumble into a chaotic mess. His fists clenched at the fabric of his pants as he tried to keep them from shaking. Alfred knew that he shouldn't refuse, but the request had caught him completely off guard.

Arthur blinked twice, looking at him. He noticed that he was nervous before it got awkward for Alfred, Arthur saved him before he did anything stupid.

"Or! Or, or, or…" Arthur got up and walked to Alfred, posing him in a normal sitting pose, "This is much better... I need a sitting pose and it's better when you can see the clothes. That way I can learn how to draw the folds!"

Though, Arthur knew how to draw that. He walked back, smiling to himself. Arthur really was a spoiled kid at times, but if he liked the person, he was kind and a gentleman. Well, most of the time. He sat down with the sketchbook and started to draw.

Alfred was certain that the noble felt the tremors as he posed the panicking tailor. This was painfully out of the bounds of normalcy. Still, he tried to be helpful, suppressing the building tension from spreading to his limbs. With a few deep breaths, the fear subsided enough for him to sit still.

Arthur ended up giving up on the drawing, but he wanted Alfred to stay, really. He put the sketchbook away with a sigh, rubbing his neck before looked slightly away. Arthur really was a beautiful prince. His skin was perfect and his hair was soft and smelled of vanilla. His eyes were green, purely emerald and his lips were pink. He looked at Alfred, smiled.

Alfred watched as the sketchbook was put away, "Sire?"

He hated the way his voice wavered with uncertainty. It wasn't like him to be this nervous. He glanced over his glasses at the beautiful noble. _'Beautiful?' _he questioned his own thoughts and perhaps his sanity. Arthur was the prince of his country! How could he think that of the noble?

Arthur didn't say a thing. He had no idea what to say. One thing might be more stupid than the other and what wouldn't Alfred think? God, Alfred was handsome. He was… special. He gave Arthur this feeling. Maybe a crus- _'A crush? No... No! On another male? That was wrong... wasn't it? Yes, it was.'_

Alfred's gaze fell back to his hands, letting his hair hide his face. He wondered what the noble was thinking, but he was too afraid to ask. Minutes passed as he tried to reign in the bizarre feelings welling within him. He failed miserably as the faint blush lingered on his face.

Arthur trailed over to Alfred, knelt down in front of him and picked his head up by grabbing the chin.

"Alfred... Did I push you too hard? Is that it? If so, I am truly sorry," he said, looking into Alfred's eyes.

"N-no," Alfred tried not to sound as flustered as he felt, "It's not that, sire."

His eyes darted to the floor, unable to hold Arthur's gaze. He could feel his pulse quicken at the noble's touch. Why did he feel this way? Alfred didn't have an answer and it frightened him horribly. There was no denying that he was attracted to the noble now.

Arthur pulled away with a little smile, "You can leave now."

God... It was hard to hold this mask. He was embarrassed, shy and the room started to get hotter and hotter. It was horrible. He had never felt like this before. His hands were wet and it was like he had gotten an adrenaline kick. Arthur walked back to the window, staring out through the window, staring at the falling snow as he tried to calm himself.

More out of his own whims than true courtesy, he followed Arthur to the window and knelt on one knee before the noble. He took a pale hand, kissing it softly.

"Then I will take my leave for now," his tone still just as soft as the kiss, "Please, call on me any time you may have the need."

Alfred rose once more and went to gather his kit before walking toward the door. In truth, he didn't want to leave. Sending one last glance back at the prince, he walked out of the room and closed the door as quietly as he could.

When he heard the door was shut, he felt sad. He really hadn't talked with anyone for a long time that was his age. Well… except that girl. Arthur frowned by the thought. More than anything else he just wanted to run after Alfred and beg him to stay but to keep up the pride, he didn't.

Alfred paused outside the door for a moment, trying to sort out the torrent of emotions running amuck in his mind. He could scarcely believe what had just occurred. Eventually, he managed to find his way back to the tailor's rooms. Mr. Bailey was waiting for him, looking cross.

"Where have you been?" his master snapped.

Alfred fidgeted, uncertain of what to say, but responded partially in truth, "Prince Arthur wished to talk for a time."

Mr. Bailey didn't say much more on the matter as they sat down for tea. The boy looked as though he'd been through enough for one day. Alfred handed over his notes and Mr. Bailey began the patterns for the coat, allowing his apprentice to make suggestions. Alfred had an eye for colors and, due to his "talk" with the prince, suggested a deep forest green for the outfit with gold accents. They worked tirelessly until the sun set.

Arthur hadn't been doing much that day, but someone was filling up his mind… Alfred. That stupid, poor tailor! How could someone like him have such a huge impact in his life all of sudden? He really couldn't think of anything else. It was almost like being in love, though the feelings was stronger. _'No... It can't be,' _he thought. He had even imagined him and Alfred dance at the ball. Oh dear, how he wish for that to happen!

^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^v^To my dear readers, I apologize for disappearing during February. Things have been hectic because my friends and I have been getting ready for MTAC (a massive anime convention). On top of that, I haven't been inspired to write anything for Rise of the Guardians lately. I hope you can forgive me for that. Anyway, I've been writing Hetalia recently with my awesome friend from Denmark and we want to know what you think. Ciao~


	2. Complicated

Arthur opened his eyes in the morning when the sun shone at him. It was pretty late, wasn't it? It was winter, which meant it was very dark in the mornings. Did they forget to wake him up? Arthur sat up and as the second thought that came to him… was, of course, about Alfred. Alfred, Alfred, Alfred... It drove him mad. Soon enough, Arthur made his way out of the bed to get dressed.

Alfred had worked through most of the night, eventually passing out at a table around midnight. He hadn't been able to sleep due to the day's events playing with his mind. Then, the unusual feelings playing with his heart left him confused and restless. His dreams had been just as chaotic, dredging up one uncertainty after another. Could he… could he have truly fallen for his prince?

Mr. Bailey entered the main room at 8am to find Alfred slumped against the table, sound asleep. He had no clue what had transpired to cause such a change in his young apprentice, but this was supremely unsettling. After all, Alfred had been switching back and forth from working diligently to daydreaming all of the previous evening. It worried the master tailor immensely.

Eventually, he woke his apprentice up by gently shaking his shoulders. Alfred jumped as though he'd been electrocuted and fell to the floor. Mr. Bailey looked down at the startled youth.

"Good morning, Alfred," he sighed heavily, helping his apprentice off the floor, "Are you alright?"

Alfred accepted the offered aid, "I-I'm fine. It's just been a long night."

Arthur made his way down the halls, humming softly. He wasn't hungry and it was too late for breakfast. He wanted to look for Alfred. He didn't know why. He didn't even know who he was, but he wanted to see this tailor once again.

Mr. Bailey gave him the morning off, saying that it wasn't good for him to stay cooped up in the drawing room for such long hours. Alfred decided to explore the castle a bit considering what had happened the previous day. In the end, he was hopelessly lost in a wing of the building he'd never been in before. He sat down in an alcove, staring out the window until the sound of light footsteps caught his attention. Looking to the hallway, he watched as Arthur walked past the alcove.

Arthur looked up and saw Alfred. Happiness filled his heart once again. He was so beautiful, so handsome, so... poor. Yes, he was poor and he was a man… which meant he shouldn't have these thoughts, ever. And now, he started to feel awkward. Should he say hello or just walk? But he did make eye contact with the tailor.

Alfred had kept his head down, hoping that the noble wouldn't notice him. Naturally, Arthur looked his way. He stood quickly and bowed. Thoughts of the previous day ran through his mind. He fought the rise of his pulse, trying to stay as calm as he could. Now was most definitely the time to lose his delicate control. However, for all his effort… he still recalled how soft the prince's skin had been.

"Do not… Bow for me," he said low toned, almost soundlessly.

He didn't want to be different. He liked being Prince, of course! But... sometimes, it was like people were too busy with thinking about how to act instead of actually being there.

"Please," he offered a smile, then thought, _'Especially Alfred shouldn't have to bow.'_

Confusion was clear in Alfred's eyes as he straightened himself. Had he heard the noble correctly? The smile made him think he had, but he was uncertain. Yet… why would Arthur make such a request of him? It was curious, to say the least. He didn't know of any royal who would ask such a thing. He fidgeted slightly as he tried to think of what to say.

After a moment, he returned the smile, "As you wish."

Arthur sighed before he kept walking, lowering his brows slightly.

Time passed and they got closer and closer to the Yule Ball until it was only one week away. Arthur and Alfred did talk, yet not enough for the prince's liking. It was hurting Arthur, but why? Not being able to truly talk with a tailor? Alfred didn't seem like a nervous type when Arthur had seen him talk with anyone else. He looked confident and he was smiling, but he wasn't acting like that with Arthur.

"He… doesn't like me, I guess," Arthur mumbled a late afternoon while he was walking towards the bathroom, "I am the prince. Who wouldn't like me?"

Arthur was used to being loved by everyone and this was… weird. He undressed himself and sat down in the warm water in the tube that there was prepared for him.

Alfred had eventually meandered back to the tailor's quarters. Mr. Bailey had to ask him five times why he looked so sullen before he disappeared to his chambers for a while. He didn't want to speak to anyone when he felt like his heart was roaming elsewhere.

The next day, he threw himself into working on the noble's outfit. He worked almost nonstop for the next week, pausing only for food and rest. By the end of the week, it was finished and Alfred was at the end of his rope. There was nothing else that could hold his attention; nothing to distract him from thinking of Arthur. Mr. Bailey had been watching his apprentice with growing amusement as he pieced together what had happened. Of course, he said nothing of his discoveries to anyone, especially King Aston. The master tailor insisted that his apprentice get a bath and shave before going up to see the prince for the final fitting. Alfred tried to oppose the idea, blushing furiously as he was shoved to the baths. If anything, it made Mr. Bailey all the more insistent. He helped his apprentice clean up and ruffled the boy's hair once they were back in the drawing room.

"Don't think I haven't noticed, Alfred," he spoke quietly, watching the boy's eyes widen, "I understand that adoring someone of his stature is terrifying, but you should tell him. Keeping it cooped up isn't good for either of you. I've heard from the maids that the prince has been just as depressed this past week."

Mr. Bailey left his apprentice standing there, stuttering, as he went to collect the sewing kit and the prince's new attire. He wanted nothing more than for the boy to be happy, like he had been at his home. Alfred used to be so carefree and laughed often. Seeing him at war with himself hurt the master tailor horribly.

Placing the kit and outfit in Alfred's arms he directed the boy towards the door, "Go on, now. Don't be afraid."

Alfred stumbled out the door, looking back for reassurance and found a smile on his master's face. An inkling of his former confidence steeled his heart as he made his way back to the prince's quarters. He paused for a moment outside the door, gathering what courage he could, and knocked.

_Knock, knock._ It sounded from the door. The prince wondered if it would be worth to go open the door. did it even matter who it was? Tonight. Tonight… Yes, the ball was tonight and he would have to participate and even dance with the Frenchmans daughter. What was her name? He didn't even bother to remember…

He moved out of his messy bed and made his way to the mirror, trying to straighten his hair with his fingers before mumbling rather loudly, "Please come in."

Arthur had spent the most of the week in his room, he had only had few conversations with others, like when he had to get his hair cut before the ball. In that week, Arthur had also admitted to himself that he liked this tailor, though it was quite obvious. He had stopped each time he heard his voice. Also, he had often thought about him, even watched him from afar.

Alfred let himself in and closed the door behind him, "Good afternoon, sire."

The smile on his face could have lit the room as he spotted the drowsy prince. He'd never seen Arthur like this and found the noble's messy appearance charming. Alfred placed his kit and the clothes on the same table he had used last time he'd been in the room, then walked over to the prince. Delicately, he knelt, took the prince's hand and placed a chaste kiss upon it.

Arthur was surprised to see it was Alfred, and he was happy. He was happier than he could remember being for quite some time. It could have been anyone, but it wasn't. It was just the tailor; Alfred. The man he liked… a lot. He hadn't got any further from that, admitting liking someone was one thing, but love? No. He didn't even get to say a thing before he felt a kiss on his hand by two soft lips.

A little blush took over the prince's cheeks. He slowly pulled his hand away, continuing trying to straighten his messy hair. Of course, it was Alfred; he needed his new outfit for the ball.

"Are you coming to the ball?" he asked.

Since Alfred worked directly for the king, he would be invited. He knew that not everyone employed by his father would be invited, but Alfred's job was a bit more... private. That's why he would be called upon.

Alfred noted the blush on Arthur's face. He decided that, considering the prince had asked him not to bow, this would become his greeting for the noble. He took a step back and tried to recall if Mr. Bailey had said anything about the ball. After a moment, he nodded.

"Of course," his smile turned shy, "However, I'm afraid I'll just be a wallflower. I haven't the slightest idea how to waltz."


	3. Masquerade

Disclaimer: We don't own Hetalia, unfortunately. It belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. Also, expect yaoi in later chapters. Don't like it, don't read it.

* * *

Arthur looked at Alfred, then chuckled, "Nah, but it's not only what it is about."

The prince then looked at the clock and he was almost stunned. Only one hour? Arthur decided to undress himself and folded his arms across his chest.

"Now, we need to hurry. It seems that you're a little late, so let me see the outfit," Arthur said quickly. Then a thought crossed his mind; would Alfred even have clothes fitting to a royal ball? Probably not. "Oh, would you like to borrow some of my clothes? If you… you know."

Alfred turned away and blushed slightly as the last night's events played through his mind, "Master Bailey gifted me a tail coat last night, sire."

He walked over and gathered the noble's new attire, praying that everything fit correctly. King Aston had stopped by their quarters earlier that week to ask about the color choice. The king had seemed oddly pleased with the forest green, despite his earlier conversations with Mr. Bailey. Alfred presented it to Arthur and wondered if it would meet with approval.

When Arthur was shown the clothing, he looked at it for a bit before smiling, "I love it, now... let's hurry."

The prince grabbed it out of Alfred's hands, though gently. They really had to hurry. He had to get ready and be there maybe 30 minutes before everyone else since he was the prince, thus the main reason for the ball. He got dressed quickly and everything fit perfectly. He then brushed his hair, wondering if he should slick it back.

"Alfred, could you help me?"

If there was one thing he loved, was it that he acted normal around Alfred. He didn't even think about he was a prince and he loved it... so much.

Alfred silently wished that they could stay like this. He was comfortable in the prince's presence now. Uncertainty had fallen away completely when he'd made his way into the room. He did note the slight increase in his pulse as he looked Arthur over. How could any one man be so stunning? The green brocade suited Arthur perfectly, bringing out the color of his eyes as Alfred had thought it would.

"What can I do?" he asked, eager to be of assistance.

"I wonder if I should slick my hair back or just have it normal," he asked, looked at himself in the mirror before sighing.

He didn't even want to go to the ball. All he wanted was to be here and kiss Alfred… Lay close to him... naked... alone... and- '_What...?' _How could he think about that? It was sick! The prince tugged his hair before walking to his bed and sat down, covering his face. How could he look at Alfred after thinking this? He should just ignore it and so he did.

He quickly came up with a lie, "Sorry... I got dizzy."

Alfred watched the emotions play across the noble's face before he retreated to the bed. He followed Arthur and sat down next to him. It was fairly obvious that the noble was more than just dizzy. Alfred leaned over and gently moved Arthur's hair so he could see his prince's face.

"What's the matter?" he asked, concern clear in his tone.

Arthur took a deep breath, '_Why do I feel like this? I feel so happy around Alfred…'_ Feeling like... nothing else didn't matter. What if he really did love him? A poor tailor? And what would his father think? It was sick and how would he explain it to Alfred? He clearly didn't believe what he had told him. The prince's face flushed into a dark color as the thoughts continued.

Arthur admitted, "I just… have a lot of stuff to think about."

"That's not all, is it?" Alfred saw straight through the explanation.

The tailor tried not to push Arthur to answer too quickly, but seeing the noble like this… it wasn't right and he wanted to help. Alfred just didn't know how. He'd already figured out how he felt towards Arthur. Unfortunately, it seemed that the prince still hadn't sorted it out for himself.

Arthur got up, rubbed his eyes and sighed, "Doesn't matter, the ball begins soon and I need to get ready… I am the prince after all," he chuckled before slowly walking towards the door.

This was the easiest way to escape. He soon arrived to the ball room, though it was empty. After all, he had forty minutes before anyone was scheduled to arrive. Only the man by the piano was there. Arthur told him to play Greensleeves, his favorite tune. It reminded him of Alfred somehow… he loved it, so much.

Arthur moved to the center of the room and danced, like he was with an invisible woman. He danced like no one was watching, so absorbed in the lovely music. He even hummed along to the haunting melody.

Alfred sat there, dazed for a moment before he walked back down to the tailor's chambers. He didn't hear Mr. Bailey ask about how things had gone. He didn't notice as his feet dragged to his room and quietly got dressed. The black swallow tailed coat fit perfectly, although he wasn't entirely sure that he'd even had his measurements taken.

Mr. Bailey had left for the King's quarters by the time he emerged again. Alfred made his way to the ballroom through one of the side entrances. He knew the pianist who was playing the current tune. The elderly man's name was Isaac and had been one of the first to try to befriend the young tailor. He nodded to Isaac, then picked up the tune.

"I have been ready at your hand to grant whatever you would crave. I have both wagered life and land, your love and good-will for to have," he sang softly at first, then louder as he fell into the music, "Greensleeves was all my joy. Greensleeves was my delight. Greensleeves was my heart of gold, and who but my lady greensleeves."

Arthur blinked twice and stopped. He turned around. That voice? He knew it, it was Alfred's, and as he turned around, he saw Alfred who was in the other end of the room. Had Alfred seen him? Probably not, Arthur leaned against a column that were in the middle of the room..

"Bloody hell," he mumbled under his breath as he felt how his heart hammered to get out of his chest.

"If you intend thus to disdain, it does the more enrapture me. And even so, I still remain a lover in captivity," Alfred hadn't noticed that he'd been singing, almost lamenting, his own emotions and frustrations until that moment.

Once the song had ended, he noted that Issac was looking indirectly over to one of the columns. Alfred had been so caught up in the music that he hadn't seen Arthur standing there. How he wanted to run away then, but his feet wouldn't budge.

Arthur slowly walked towards Alfred but then he froze. He stared down and rubbed his neck. God what a luck; he hadn't seen Arthur dance with himself in his own pathetic loneliness. He rubbed his arm, looked at Isaac then back at Alfred. He folded his arms over his chest, unsure of what to do with them.

"I.. Well.." he stared away, then down.

Alfred paused to look pleadingly at Issac, "Could you play the song I showed you when I arrived?"

The elder man nodded kindly and winked, "I won't tell anyone."

The tune drifted from the piano, soft and sweet, as Alfred made his way down to the prince. No one else was due to be in the room for another half hour, but he kept his tone low as he sang not only for, but to the noble before him.

"One night, I dreamt of you. I fell in love with you under the starlit sky," he sang, looking into Arthur's eyes, "I roamed the world with you til the dawn brought the dew and we watched the sun rise. I thought you soon would be only a memory lost within my mind. Then, I awoke to see you were there next to me, resting by my side."

Arthur slowly danced with Alfred. It was only like slow, slow steps and Alfred's voice was low, more… manly? Not like he wasn't but, Arthur adored it. Alfred was an amazing singer and his voice filled his mind. He stared into his eyes, starting to hum the old tune before he quickly gazed at the pianist. And then back at Alfred. This was love, right? Arthur knew it, Alfred knew it and… Isaac knew it. Only them, but as crown prince, he needed a queen. He needed an heir and Alfred… was a man.

Arthur pushed the thought away, he was happy now. He loved this moment. And nothing should change that. He even, shyly, let himself lean closer and slowly kissed the tailor on his soft lips.

Alfred allowed himself to be pulled into the dance and tried his best to keep from stepping Arthur's feet. He didn't want to ruin this moment or have it end for any reason. His eyes fluttered closed as Arthur kissed him, pressing back lightly. He was so lost in the emotions welling in his heart that he didn't notice Mr. Bailey standing on a balcony, smiling down at them.

Arthur wrapped his arms around him. Alfred's lip melted against his own and created a kind of magic. It was unbelievable. They might be two men, but he knew… this was right.

Mr. Bailey noticed that King Aston was headed toward the balcony. Due to his failing health, the king was fond of watching over the festivities instead of joining them. Worry rose within the master tailor; he knew what would happen if those two were seen together. The last thing he wanted to see was the blue eyed boy marching to the gallows.

"Alfred!" He yelled down at his apprentice, then feigned confusion, "Are you down there?"

The young tailor stumbled away from Arthur and looked toward the balcony, "Yes, sir?"

After a moment, Alfred was glad he moved away. King Aston stepped into view moments later, looking around the ballroom.

Arthur just stood there, a bit confused. One moment he was having his first and most perfect kiss and then, he stood alone. The prince could still feel Alfred's lips burn against his own. He turned around and walked to Isaac; talking a bit with him to make sure he wouldn't tell anyone. God, he wanted another kiss… and more. Arthur smiled widely by the thought and ended up standing like one big smile.

Mr. Bailey signaled that he didn't want anything. Alfred nodded and walked back to the grand piano, hoping to sing a bit more before the other guests arrived. He was self-conscious about his voice; something Isaac had discovered in the first week of knowing him.

"My dear prince," he heard the elder pianist say in hushed tones, "I value your and Alfred's happiness more than you could possibly know. It is good to see young love in these walls once more. You have my word that I will not tell a soul."

Alfred smiled over at his favorite noble, wishing they were elsewhere… away from prying eyes.

Arthur smiled softly, "Thank you Isaac."

The prince walked away, to the other side of the room, only to stand alone. His face didn't like when Arthur spent too much time with other at his age. Maybe they would mess something up? Well… his father was right. Alfred did mess things up... Arthur's feelings, his mind and his heart. He had no idea what to do or think anymore.

He leaned against the wall, humming softly the tune as they had heart just a minute ago. That stupid French girl would come today, Arthur's fiancé. Fiancé... Yet he loved Alfred? Sick...

All those feelings, thought got too much for him. It was like everything was spinning now. Love. Hate. Rich. Poor. Give. Greed. Guilt. Pride. Stubbornness… All those feelings. He placed a hand on his belly before he ran off. Off to the toilet to throw up. The prince ended up sitting there, just staring down in the toilet, again, wondering what to do.

Alfred had been halfway through singing a ballad Isaac had taught him when a flash of movement caught his eye. Glancing up to the balcony, he noted that King Aston and Mr. Bailey were no longer there. He ran after Arthur as quickly as his feet would carry him. For a moment, he thought he'd lost the noble. If it hadn't been for a door that stood partially ajar, he might have run in the opposite direction. Alfred found his first love crumpled on the floor of the bathroom.

"A-Arthur?" he asked, out of breath, as he knelt beside the prince.

Arthur was sitting against the wall, about to sob. His feelings took over and he just explained everything without a second thought.

"I-I can't cope with this anymore! I-I am a prince! The Crown Prince of England, of Britain! I-I have a fiancé, but I love you. I love you so much.." He paused and gasped as he sobbed even harder, "A-And what wouldn't my father think? I'd be hated! And I would never have children! And the kingdom would fall apart. It all depends on me, me alone... I just want to be with you."

Alfred held his prince as he cried, trying to keep himself from falling apart at Arthur's confession.

The prince leaned against Alfred, his head tilting down on Alfred's shoulder as he kept crying. Arthur didn't even let Alfred say a thing before he heard the guests arriving. He got up, wiped his eyes, his mouth and quickly fixed himself up before leaving off to the ballroom.

On his way to it, he had his usual facial expression. He mostly wanted to cry and just be alone, but he had to do this. It was kind of amazing how he could hide that deep sadness he was feeling. He sighed, just the thought of dancing with the princess… he would think of Alfred, look for Alfred all the time.

'_Why couldn't it just be him?'_ he asked himself.

When the noble left, he stayed on the floor, feeling as though his heart had been ripped from his chest. His careful composure cracked as the words rang in his memory… Arthur was engaged to be married. The sane part of his mind recognized that the noble was understandably worried for his country. But why… why would the prince have kissed him if…?

The next few hours were a blur to the young tailor. The next thing he noticed was that he was lying on his bed, face down in his pillow, sobbing his heart out. He didn't want to see another living soul. His tailcoat was lying across the room in a heap. Nothing mattered.

Arthur hadn't seen Alfred for hours. He had already given a speech and danced with the princess twice. He went to look for him. Where was he? Where could he be? He walked faster and faster before he ran. Alfred would be at the party, right? He would.

"Alfred..." he whispered in recognition.

He had looked everywhere until he walked into Alfred's room and saw the tailor. He stared at him for a moment. Was he broken? But… why? Arthur walked to him, sat on the edge of the bed.

"Alfred?" he asked.

Alfred's shoulder's hunched as he tried in vain to block out the prince's voice. He couldn't stop the heart wrenching sob that wracked his body with tremors. Why was Arthur here? The tailor didn't know, but he wanted to tell the noble to leave. The only thing stopping him was that he couldn't seem to find his voice.

It hurt to see Alfred like this… so bad and he had the feeling that it was Arthur's fault. He lay down beside Alfred, wrapped an arm around him and kissed his forehead. He just lay like this for few minutes before he finally asked.

"Alfred, I do not know what I have done, but I know it's my fault. So please, tell me? You are the most precious person to me," His voice was soft as he said that, low and gentle.

Alfred tried to ignore the prince. It might have worked if Arthur hadn't touched him. Being held, if only slightly, was a world of comfort to the tailor. The sobs quieted slowly as he listened to the noble. He didn't trust himself to speak just yet; too many harsh, near violent thoughts had left him in a state of self-loathing. Was the prince simply toying with him? If so… this was beyond cruel.

Arthur sighed softly and moved closer, resting his head besides Alfred's.

"So it is my fault, huh?" Arthur said as he started to think back.

Last time they talked was in the bathroom, so it was something he had said there. It wasn't hard to figure out what he had said that had hurt Alfred. It would be so embarrassing if this wasn't the reason why Alfred was sad.

"Listen… She is my fiancée, but you have to understand, Alfred. I never agreed to that. It's you I love. Believe me... when I become king, nothing can stop us from being together. I will work hard for it to happen. Until then, we will be together, secretly, like now. I won't ever kiss her."

'_Secretly,'_ Alfred thought bitterly. That's all he was… just another secret to keep out of sight. The tears streaming down his face couldn't come close to sorrow aching in his hollow chest. That word branded itself into Alfred's mind as he tried desperately to pretend that Arthur wasn't there. How could anything hurt this horribly..?

Arthur looked at him. It seemed like those words only made it worse. Arthur sighed, covered his face as he sat up.

"Listen, Al. I want to be with you. I want to tell the world that I love you. I want to stand on the balcony with you, looking at my people and say, 'This is the one I love.' But… I can't do that. I know it and so do you. It's hard for me as well. If I could change my gender so I could be with you, I had done it.. But.. But.."

Arthur had no idea what he was saying anymore, he just talked.

"I love you and I want everyone to know," he mumbled.

Alfred didn't believe a single word that came out of Arthur's mouth. When the noble moved away, a thought cemented itself into his mind. He was just a plaything to Arthur… something to be used and thrown away. He felt the emotions on his face die, leaving his eyes cold.

Arthur lowered his brows slightly. He moved to Alfred once again, turned Alfred and pinned him to the bed while he was sitting on him, staring down at him.

"What do you want me to do?! Go tell that French girl that I am homosexual?! Is that what you want?!" He paused, stared at him before he leaned down, kissed Alfred again, gently, slowly then glanced away. "Is it that what you want? You want me to prove my love? Even though I risk being abandoned?" he asked and kissed Alfred's cheek before hugging him, "Because then it shall be my mission…"

Alfred felt numb, almost like a porcelain doll. The light in his eyes that had signified life was gone. He offered no resistance when Arthur flipped him over or any reaction to the kiss. Tears felt as though they were scalding his cold face as they fell towards the pillow. He didn't want anything… just like he wished he couldn't feel anything.

Arthur stared at him and moved away, "Got it."

There was no way he would lose Alfred like this. Therefore, he left. He walked to the ballroom, pulled the French princess away to another room. Obviously, she thought they were going to do... _something else._

But Arthur broke and couldn't tell her. He had to wait, had to make her a bit happy.

"Uh, never mind. Let's dance," he said and walked back to the ballroom.

But regretted once again, he had to tell her. He was holding her hand, thinking, '_Dance and tell her later or just tell her now?'_ But then it popped up in his mind. He didn't do this because or her or himself, he would do this for Alfred, to prove his love. Dancing with her wouldn't make anything better. He dragged her to the kitchen and explained. Though, it didn't seem like she was happy with it, not at all. Jocelynn crashed a plate over Arthur's head and walked off.

The pain was so strong, but, at the same time, he didn't really feel it. He just need a moment before walking back to Alfred, opened the door to his room and walked in. Arthur was bleeding from the head. It wasn't enough to be considered dangerous. Still, it was enough to be distracting. He sat down on the bed.

"I have told her..."

* * *

Afterward: Yay drama XD I'm going to go crash now. Good night, sweet prince... may flights of devils wing you to your rest.


	4. I'm here for you

Disclaimer: We don't own Hetalia, unfortunately. It belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. Also, expect yaoi in later chapters. Don't like it, don't read it.

Note: Alrighty! That took forever to edit due to my lack of time management skills! XD Balanced Chaos is getting ready for the second convention of the year and we've been a little swamped. Hope you guys can forgive me for the wait..

About this chapter… if you're underage, then shoo.

* * *

By the time Arthur had returned, Alfred had passed out from sheer exhaustion and emotional trauma. His breathing was slightly uneven, but the tears had finally stopped. Shortly after, Mr. Bailey came through the door with a panicked look on his face.

"I thought I might find you two here," the master tailor said quickly, "What have you d- My prince, what happened to your head?"

Mr. Bailey had heard from Princess Jocelynn that Arthur had refused the engagement. It had taken some time and desperate pleading before the lady had agreed to let the tailor go talk to the prince before she went to her father.

Arthur looked at Mr. Bailey. He was so incredible; he didn't judge, respected everyone and always nice and friendly. He was really something special. He smiled and ran his hand through his hair as he always did when he was nervous. He felt something warm and thick at his hand. He pulled it and looked at his hand. It was covered in blood…

"It's nothing," he mumbled and sighed, "The princess smashed a plate over my head... because I tried to be a gentleman. I mean, I tried to be a gentleman for Alfred, but he... hates me."

Mr. Bailey walked over to a small cabinet where he kept bandages and such from their herbalist, Alicia. He sat the box down on the bed and poured some water into the basin from a stone pitcher. Soaking one of the wash rags, he began wiping away the blood and checking the cuts. Luckily, there was no glass embedded in Arthur's wounds.

"Being hit over the head is far from nothing, my prince," he spoke softly, trying not to wake Alfred, "Lady Jocelynn told me that you had refused your engagement for someone else's sake. She would not say a name, however."

The master tailor bandaged the noble's wounds, then sat down next to him and looked over at Alfred's tear stained face. He wasn't sure what had happened and he was hell-bent on finding out. Mr. Bailey looked Arthur in the eye, his brow creasing slightly.

"Do you love him, Arthur?"

Arthur almost burst into tears. It was what he had tried to prove for so long now! He was just happy that someone understood. The noble wiped the first tear away and took a deep breath, yet he still spoke with a shaky voice.

"I love him more than anything else in the world! But he wouldn't listen to me. He wouldn't even talk to me," Arthur leaned against Mr. Bailey, closing his eyes.

Mr. Bailey pulled the prince into a gentle hug, stroking the boy's hair where he wasn't injured. Arthur had been more of a son to him than his prince ever since his mother had died in childbirth. He'd been the one to take care of Arthur when he'd fallen ill or taught him when his tutor was otherwise unavailable. He'd been indescribably happy when he'd seen the prince and Alfred together.

"If I may, what happened after the two of you left the ballroom?" he inquired.

"A-Alfred and I?" he questioned, then thought for a moment, "All the feelings rushed up into me; the fears, feelings worries and love… rushing up in me and I had to throw up. So I ran. Alfred followed me and.. I needed to let it all out. So, I told him that I was engaged and I had to marry a woman, otherwise I wouldn't be able to have children and the kingdom would fall apart. Still, I loved him more than anything else. I just wanted to be with him. Then, the guests came and I had to leave," he explained

"Oh, my dear prince..." Mr. Bailey said quietly, imagining what Alfred must have thought.

The master tailor didn't have time to say anything as he heard a small groan behind him. Alfred had woken to the sound of the two voices he didn't want to hear for some time. _'Why today?'_ the apprentice wondered to himself as the memories came rushing back.

Arthur felt his heart disappear in fear. He didn't want Alfred to ignore him, not anymore. He loved Alfred and… No, he couldn't handle this. The fear of being ignored by Alfred, even after telling her, was too strong. He got up, biting his lip as he tried to escape, and walked to the door before Mr. Bailey would get to stop him.

Mr. Bailey rose quickly and grabbed Arthur's wrist as he could make it to the door, "Wait in the drawing room, please."

The master tailor let go, but held Arthur's gaze for a moment with pleading eyes. He didn't want to see either of them this way and was determined to help in any way he could. Turning back, he sat down on the bed again. Alfred had thrown an arm over his face, hiding it from view. The occasional, telltale sniffle was all Mr. Bailey needed to know that his apprentice was still awake.

"Alfred?" he spoke kindly, yet sternly and pulled the blue eyed boy's arm away from his face, "Alfred, look at me."

Mr. Bailey noticed that Alfred's sleeve was soaked, then saw the tears. He pulled his apprentice upright into a similar hug he'd pulled Arthur into earlier.

"Alfred, Arthur renounced his engagement to Lady Jocelynn," he said sincerely, "Pull yourself together, my boy."

It took several minutes before Alfred could stop crying, hiccupping quietly into Mr. Bailey's shoulder. Why… why would Arthur do that? Unless he had actually meant what he'd said. Alfred felt like a fool for trying to believe otherwise.

Arthur was waiting in the drawing room, sitting against the wall. His eyes were red and he tried everything he could not to cry. _'Why? I know I have hurt him, but what about me? Doesn't he think that it hurts me as well…? God, why do I love this much..?' _Arthur wondered silently. He had his legs pulled up and his arms resting on them, burying his face into his arms. He began humming to himself.

Mr. Bailey pulled away, looking his apprentice in the eye, "He's waiting for you. I must go speak to King Aston and see what I can't do for the two of you."

The master tailor took his leave, to the drawing room, where he paused in front of Arthur. He hoped that they could work their problems out like he had with the king sixteen years ago. Mr. Bailey placed a hand on Arthur's head and stroked his hair soothingly.

"Give him a moment, my prince."

After he walked out of the room, Alfred meandered over to Arthur and fell to his knees in front of the noble. He leaned forward, cupping the noble's face and kissed him with unrestrained adoration.

Arthur's eyes widened, but only for a short time before he closed them. He wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck and kissed him back, smiling warmly. Finally, he was able to feel Alfred's lips again. This time, no one should stop them. He kept smiling into their kiss and pulled the tailor closer. He slowly fell down on his back, but kept the kiss going. He was happy; he never wanted the kiss to end.

Alfred's eyes fluttered closed as Arthur slide to the floor, pulling him down on his hands and knees. He eventually pulled away to breathe. His face was flushed with desire for the beautiful man beneath him. The noble's infectious smile spread to his face. Kissing down Arthur's throat, he began to unfasten the numerous buttons on the lavish coat he had crafted. Ever so gently, he nipped at the prince's soft skin at his collarbone.

Arthur closed his eyes. The tailor's lips were so soft, so gentle, and knowing what might happen made him shiver.

"A-Alfred.." he whispered with a smile. His hand caressed Alfred's hair gently. His head then tilted back and enjoyed Alfred's touches, "Mhh..."

Alfred knew what he wanted to do, but paused with his lips on Arthur's neck. Should he… rather, could he take the prince now? There was no one else who would ever hold his heart like this again, he knew. He moved slightly so his face was nestled against Arthur's.

"I love you, Arthur," he whispered alluringly.

Arthur bit his lip, clinging to Alfred, "I-I love you too, A-Alfred..."

Arthur slowly pulled Alfred's shirt off. He couldn't wait; he wanted it. The prince didn't even think. He just knew he wanted to be with Alfred… wanted Alfred to be in him. He wanted to have that special connection with him.

"I love you so... much," he whispered, blushing.

Alfred took Arthur's actions as all the answer he needed for his mind's queries. He moved so that his white poet's shirt fell to the floor next to his prince, then leaned down to kiss Arthur once again. There was an edge to this kiss; unadulterated passion lingered in it. Something bothered him, however. Alfred knew that the floor couldn't possibly be the most comfortable place. He pulled Arthur and himself upright, pinning the noble to the wall. Alfred coaxed the tailored finery, pants and all, off of the noble. He paused to admire Arthur's pale skin before he picked the prince up bridal style and carried him to his bedroom.

Arthur blushed darkly, almost panicking, "A-Alfred, What if someone- What if-"

The prince had no idea what to ask. What if someone saw them? It was night and all the guests had gone home but what if a maid saw them? The thoughts rushed through his head before he forced himself to forget about. Of course, no one would see them; they would be asleep by now. He leaned up to let his lips meet Alfred's neck. His tongue slowly licked up Alfred's neck. It was slightly bitter, yet sweet.

_'I'm a prince'_ He thought, _'A prince, who loved the royal tailor; a prince who was going to lose his virginity to this tailor. A man… not a woman, but a man and he was being carried, not like a man, but as a princess.' _Alfred surely knew how to be gentle. He would be an amazing king, without a doubt.

"I love you," Arthur whispered while his lips and tongue caressed against the soft skin on the tailors neck.

Alfred wondered absentmindedly if the noble could smell the lavender and mint Mr. Bailey insisted on using in the baths. Every touch from the prince sent an electric current through his skin, leaving behind blooming warmth where those soft lips lingered.

"You are my everything," he murmured, a sweet smile on his face.

He laid Arthur down on his feather bed, then removed his breeches, watching the prince for his reaction. He sat his glasses on the table near his bed. The tailor knew he wouldn't need then for a while. Crawling onto the bed, he positioned himself between Arthur's legs and placed a series of soft kisses on the pale chest before him.

Arthur stared at Alfred, at his body. God he was beautiful, amazing, incredible… simply stunning. How could anyone affect him this much? Making him feel the way he did. Each time he felt a kiss or touch, it felt like he travelled into another dimension. What an amazing feeling…

"Mmh.. A-Alfred, are you a virgin?" he asked.

He thought that he wouldn't be. Alfred was way too talented and handsome to be virgin. Still, he wanted to ask.

Alfred blushed lightly, nuzzling into Arthur's neck, "Yes… are you?"

The question had caught him off guard. He'd never so much as kissed anyone other than his mother before meeting the blue-blood under him. It wasn't from lack of effort on Elaine's part, either; she had tried to introduce Alfred to several beautiful ladies, but none of them had enticed him at all. At the very least, that part of his life made sense now.

Joy bloomed in Arthur's chest, knowing he would be the first… Alfred's first time. He ran his hands down the others body gently as he leaned up and licked Alfred soft lip. He gently bit it before kissing him slowly, pressing his lips against Alfred's, feeling his breathing, his love, his arms… everything. Alfred moaned into the kiss, his pulse quickening at Arthur's touch.

It was incredible, amazing, wonderful and nothing less than perfect. Alfred was purely perfect. He leisurely ran his hands down to Alfred's groin, caressed it sensually before doing the same with his crotch.

A possessive side of the tailor was displeased that his prince was touching himself. Grasping Arthur's wrists, he pinned them to the pillow and lowered his hips so that his arousal rubbed against the noble's.

Arthur's eyes widened at the feeling. The whole situation turned him on, his wrists being pinned to the pillow, being held down and Alfred's actions. The prince bit his lip, smiling happily before letting more moans out. Alfred was hard, really hard and it felt… amazing. This was special, something between only the tailor and the noble. It was almost magical… that and so much more. Arthur bucked his hips up, wanting to feel more of the amazing pleasure.

Alfred's back arched slightly in response to his prince. The coiling warmth that was focusing around his navel was nearly as distracting as the look on Arthur's face. He shifted his weigh to one arm and brushed a lock of Arthur's hair from his face. His face was flushed with desire.

"I-I want you, Arthur, my heart, my love," he said almost breathlessly, "But I need to know… is this what you want?"

That one word plagued him, tainting his thoughts with fear; he didn't want to be just another plaything to the noble.

Arthur gasped in pleasure. All warmth, love, lust, desire and happiness was collected together in his lower body and heart. By every touch, the prince wanted more. He heard Alfred's voice and he blinked. Of course it was what he wanted. Alfred was his everything, he had realized that now… Rather, the first day they meet.

"Mnngh- Ah...! Y-Yes, that's what I want. O-Of course-Ah," he moaned, his arms wrapping around Alfred's neck, clinging onto him.

Hesitation dissipated into a seductive smile. His eyes closed for a moment when Arthur accidentally pulled his hair. It didn't necessarily hurt; on the contrary, the tailor found it to be a turn on. Alfred placed three fingers in front of the prince's mouth, hoping Arthur would understand. The last thing he wanted was to hurt his love.

Gently, he kept tugging the tailors hair, not knowing what else to do. He saw the fingers and knew what he had to do. And therefore, he had to look sexy. He opened his mouth, taking the three fingers into his mouth, sucking them provocatively. His tongue wrapped around each finger, letting his saliva cover them and run down his on chin.

A low keen escaped Alfred as his pulse became slightly erratic; the hairs on the back of his neck were extremely sensitive. He pulled his fingers from Arthur's mouth once they were well coated, then kissed his noble. It was a test to his self-restraint to take his time pressing the first digit into the awaiting warmth between Arthur's legs. The tailor almost lost himself to the sensation.

Arthur's body twitched. Was this real? Not a dream? To have sex with Alfred… A little moan escaped him before a louder one. He couldn't handle this, yet he wanted more. Why did Alfred affect him this way, this much? It was like nothing else mattered.

"M-Mmgh.. A-Alfred.. M-More..!" he gasped desperately as his body slowly started to shimmer from sweat.

Alfred placed a trail of kisses down to Arthur's nipple, licking the soft bud. He waited a few moments before adding a second finger, stretching out the tense muscles. Arthur was so tight, so delectably warm… hearing his name called out like that sent a shiver down his spine.

"Mnnghaah! Ouch..! A-Alfred..!"

It hurt, but in a good way. His hands slowly ran through Alfred's hair before leaning up slightly and reached down, grabbing Alfred's erection. He had still allowed Alfred to finger him, though he slowly pumped Alfred's member.

"I-It's so big… you know," Arthur murmured.

Alfred tried to bite back his reaction for a moment as he stopped and moved so that his head was resting lightly on Arthur's shoulder.

Hearing his noble in pain shot ice through his veins, "…d-did I..? I'm sorry."

He panted as he continues pumping his lover's erection. His fingers couldn't reach around it, though he did the best he could. His jerks started to quicken. Alfred had to be completely hard before anything happened, he knew that.

"H-How does it feel..?" he moaned.

Alfred kissed his noble's shoulder, bucking slightly into his hand, "I-incredible."

He let his canines drag across Arthur's supple skin before biting down on the noble's neck. His fingers brushed against part of the noble's inner walls as he started moving them again. Gradually he added the third finger; his mind went temporarily blank.

Amazing, it now simply felt amazing. His entire body started to weaken by the incredible pleasure.

"A-Ah! A-Alfred, it feels so…. good," he moaned.

His hold on Alfred's erection loosened as his body twitched. Arthur couldn't believe this feeling, that something could feel this astounding. This was... intense. Arthur once again fell back, taking few deep breathes.

"Please.. Alfred.." he wasn't even able to finish a sentence anymore.

Alfred removed his fingers and snaked his arms under Arthur's neck, "Relax, my love."

The tailor pressed his erection into that waiting warmth, trying to go slowly and allow Arthur to adjust to the sensation. He was panting slightly by the time he was buried at the hilt. A thin film of sweat coated his sinewy limbs.

The prince twitched, arching back as he cried out in pleasure. It was unbelievable. He wrapped his arms around Alfred's strong body, clinging onto him while shutting his eyes. His spread his legs further, wrapping them around Alfred. The tailor was really filling him up to every inch. And it felt amazing.

Listening to the enticing sounds emanating from Arthur was almost too much for the tailor. A jolt of adrenaline and lust spiked through him. Alfred nuzzled against the side of Arthur's head, licking the shell of his noble's ear, "Tell me when."

Mr. Bailey walked back through the now dimly lit hallways. One of the maids and Isaac had stopped to ask him why he was walking with a slight limp. The maid had asked out of concern while the old pianist knew. Isaac just wanted to have a small laugh at the master tailor. Mr. Bailey had brushed them off; his "talk" with King Aston has evolved into something more than he'd planned on, as usual. He made his way back to the tailor's quarters and didn't think much of it until he noticed a pile of clothing on the floor. A few moments later, he heard the numerous moans and other elicit sounds from Alfred's room. Mr. Bailey turned on his heel and quickly locked the door to the tailor's quarters. He was certain that those two didn't need any distractions, even though Alfred had… left his door open. The master tailor quickly and silently retreated to his room, where he laid down on his bed, trying very hard not to laugh.

The now weak prince was getting closer and closer to climax, "M-move.."

His fingers brushed through the other man's hair as he arched back. A prince and the royal tailor… together like this, having sex. Arthur couldn't believe this thought; he had always thought he would end up with a blonde, beautiful princess. And now, he was with a man, with greater love than he ever could dream of. He couldn't think of anything else than how they were able to pleasure each other. How good it felt to have Alfred inside of him.

"F-Faster.. Aaah..!" he moaned out louder.

Alfred let out a breathy sigh into Arthur's shoulder as his hair was being caressed. He started out slow, trying to be patient, but soon quickened his pace. Bliss coursed through his veins as the warmth coiled in his abdomen. Arthur felt so amazing.. so tight. There was nowhere else in the world he'd rather be than in the prince's arms. Nearing his climax, Alfred shifted so that most of his weight was focused on one arm and reached down to Arthur's waiting arousal with the other. He let his thumb rub across the slit, wondering what would happen.

Arthur twitched; he wasn't able to control his body, not anymore. It felt too good and it only got better when he felt Alfred's hand by his member. Soon enough, he felt a light stroke by the slit and Arthur couldn't hold it any longer. The prince arched back, grabbing the sheets as he climaxed. Alfred was completely dirty now; his upper body was covered in the white liquid.

Alfred could have sworn he saw stars when his prince came. The blue-blood's inner walls had contracted suddenly, sending the young tailor over the edge. He shuddered slightly as he released his seed deep within Arthur.

Arthur was panting heavily, gasping softly once in a while to catch up with the breathing. The feeling when Alfred came inside him… it was stunning and now Arthur could feel how it slowly ran out of him..

Pulling out as carefully as he could, Alfred dragged his quilt over the two of them and cuddled next to his prince.

"I love you," he smiled as exhaustion pulled him toward unconsciousness.

Both of them had been virgins. And they had lost it to each other, to their love. Arthur nuzzled into Alfred once his breathing was starting to become more normal.

Arthur whispered, "I love you too."

The prince really couldn't believe that they had the chance to ever be together like this, sharing these emotions. Gently he wrapped his arms around Alfred, closed his eyes as he sniffed in the scent of the tailor.

"I love you," he repeated

Alfred held his prince close to his chest, joy emanating from him. He was tired… absolutely drained, but the tailor couldn't have been happier. For the first time in his life, he felt completely at peace. Alfred drifted off to dreamland within minutes; a serene smile on his boyish face.

Arthur rested his head against his tailors neck, smiling. While listening to the others heartbeat, Arthur slowly closed his eyes. Soon enough, he was peacefully asleep with the happiest smile on his lips. Arthur would do anything to keep staying like this. He hoped this wouldn't be the last time.

If the lovers could have sensed the malicious intent in the western wing of the castle, sleep would have been the last thought on their minds. Princess Jocelynn had heard from a maid that Arthur was with that wretch of a tailor. Thoughts most foul ran through her mind… murder was the chief among them.

* * *

Follow and review! Thanks again to everyone who has read and reviewed already. We love reading your comments!


	5. Always

Disclaimer: We don't own Hetalia, unfortunately. It belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya. Also, expect yaoi in later chapters. Don't like it, don't read it.

Note: This goes out to darkingflame, who said that Jocelynn wouldn't do anything drastic… we wrote this long before the review was posted, however. I can kind of promise that things will get better from here. Maybe.

* * *

Mr. Bailey woke up at his regular time and tried to roll out of bed. His spine disagreed strongly, as did most of his body. Everything ached, but it was a small price for what he saw when he peeked into Alfred's room. The prince and the tailor were snuggling, sound asleep. Mr. Bailey shut the door as quietly as he could, then headed towards the baths with a grin. Mr. Bailey made his way to the king's quarters once he was cleaned up. He and King Aston had a long standing tradition of sharing tea in the morning.

Alfred woke shortly afterward, groggily wondering if last night had just been a dream. He looked down at the sleeping face of Arthur and smiled. The prince looked like he didn't have a care in the world. Alfred kissed his brow softly and started humming quietly.

The Brit woke by the sound of a calm voice, humming. He shut his eyes open slowly, gazing up at his lover with a little, tired smile. He was the best thing to wake up to; Alfred, the royal tailor… his lover. Gently, he nuzzled closer. It was still dark outside, the room was incredible hot and his butt was sticky. Arthur wanted to stay with his tailor, but at the same time he couldn't stand the feeling of cum and he moved out of the bed.

Alfred felt Arthur pull away and climb out of the bed. Even in the dim light, he could sort of see the blue-blood's faint outline. After a moment, he joined his prince, wrapping his arms around the smaller man's waist.

Alfred smirked into Arthur's hair, "Good morning. Care to join me for a bath?"

Arthur giggled, leisurely grabbing one of Alfred's hands. He kissed it before turning around and kissing Al. He pressed his own body close to the others'. It was nice. Arthur didn't get horny; he just enjoyed feeling Alfred so close to him.

"Of course," he said with a smile, walking to Alfred's bathroom, which wasn't as nice as Arthurs'.

Alfred enjoyed the shared warmth between them and followed his love into the bathroom. Reaching over to a small table, he found the box of matches and lit several of the lamps around the room. The bath itself was sunk into the floor and could have easily fit three people. From what he had been told, King Aston had been strangely generous when he had the room designed. Marble roses decorated the four pillars in the room, gilded lilies stood in two vases and opals had been inlayed into the mirror's frame.

As he put the box back on the table, he noticed a card sitting in front of a lamp. Mr. Bailey's handwriting was clear enough to him, even without his glasses. However, the text was what had him worried.

"Arthur…" his hand trembled as he picked up the note.

Arthur turned to Alfred, blinking slightly worried by Alfred's expression. What could be wrong? He saw that the tailor was standing with a note and Arthur walked to him with languid ease. He looked at the note but didn't read before kissing Alfred's cheek.

"What is it?"

Alfred nuzzled into the kiss, seeking comfort as a chill ran down his spine, "Your father wants to speak with us."

The young tailor was beyond terrified. What if… what if the king didn't approve? A thousand thought raced through his mind, each more horrific than the last. He'd sooner die than be separated from Arthur now.

Arthur lowered his brows slightly, biting his lip hard before turning around. He couldn't show weakness. He had done it last night but… as a prince, he had to accept whatever his father decided. Arthur turned on the water. He would take a shower, not a bath; he would but quicker done that way. He frowned somewhat. Internally, he was deathly scared. What if... he was abandoned? Not loved? Would he be disowned… because he would never find a woman like Alfred?

Alfred's heart sank when his prince walked away. Leaving the note on the table, he walked up behind Arthur and hugged him. His head fell on his prince's shoulder as the tremors faded away. There were many uncertainties in their lives right now, but Alfred was certain of one thing at the very least. He would love Arthur until the day he died.

"Whatever happens," he spoke just above a whisper, "I'm here for you. Always."

"I don't know," he answered shortly.

The prince knew he was being a little harsh. Still, he also knew that if he started to talk too much, he would cry and he would never allow himself to cry in front of Alfred again. Arthur washed his hair, not saying another word before he walked out of the shower.

"What about clothes?" he tilted his head slightly.

Alfred waited for Arthur to finish showering, and then washed off. A few stray tears made their way down his face while he had his back to the prince. He hoped that he wasn't just being used. Shaking his head, he tried in vain to shove the thought from his mind. He grabbed two towels, handing one to Arthur and started drying his hair.

"King Aston commissioned several new outfits for you a month ago. I finished a few of them last week, but hadn't found the time to bring them up to you," he mumbled, pointing to a wardrobe in the drawing room.

Once he was dried off, Alfred located clothes for himself and got dressed.

Arthur ruffled his hair in the towel, then his body. After that he made his way to the wardrobe and got dressed. Alfred was an amazing tailor, he had never seen anything so beautiful as the clothes Alfred sewed. The attention to detail that his tailor lavished on each piece was stunning. Once the prince was dressed, Arthur made his way to Alfred. He grabbed his tailor's chin and kissed his lips delicately, but only for short time before he broke it.

"Alfred, whatever that happens, just remember that I love you.. Okay?" he asked, staring into those eyes.

Arthur didn't even wait for an answer. He grabbed Alfred's hand and dragged him to the door, walked to the throne room where his dad would be waiting.

Alfred blushed and returned the kiss, then let his prince lead him to the throne room. By the time they had reached the doors, he was shaking slightly. He tightened his grip on Arthur's hand, wishing that there was some other way of doing this. The doors swung open to reveal King Aston sitting on his throne with Mr. Bailey standing near the royal's right hand. The master tailor smiled at them with the king told everyone else in the room to leave.

Arthur let go of Alfred's hand and stepped in. His back was straight; his head was held high as he walked towards his father. He stopped in front of him. Mr. Bailey was smiling, so it couldn't be that bad. Maybe it was good? Maybe, just maybe…

"I am here father with the tailor, Alfred," was all he said, waiting for his father to speak.

Alfred waited for a moment, walking five paces behind Arthur. He kept his head down and dropped to a knee before the king. His heart hammered against his ribcage; adrenaline surged through his veins.

King Aston nodded in acknowledgement to his son, then looked down at the trembling tailor. The boy was incredibly pale. He understood now why James had asked him to be considerate of the apprentice; if he said anything too harsh, the boy looked as though he might have a heart attack.

"Alfred Jones," he said and watched the boy flinch, "James has told me that you are fond of my son. Is this true?"

Conviction steeled his heart as Alfred looked up at the king, "I love him, sire."

King Aston's eyes sparked as he smiled, "Then join him, boy. Arthur, I can't say that I entirely approve of your decision, but must do what you think is right. I'll leave it to you to explain things to the French king and his daughter."

Alfred tentatively stood and joined Arthur, smiling shyly at him.

Arthur's eyes widened. So... He did approve? Arthur felt a stream of happiness run though his whole body, collecting in his heart. He wanted to cry and smile, laugh and shout in happiness. He turned and hugged Alfred tightly, grabbing his hair and clenched it in his hands, smiling.

"Alfred.. I love you so much!"

He then realized he had to thank his dad. Arthur pulled away, eyeing his dad before walking to him.

"I appreciate your understanding, Father," Arthur kissed his dad's forehead to show how thankful he was and then, he returned to Alfred.

Alfred was temporarily stunned by the sudden display of affection. He waited, smiling, until Arthur was within arm's reach again. The tailor picked his prince up bridal style and kissed the blue-blood.

Absolute joy twinkled in those cerulean eyes, "As I love you, Arthur… forever and for always."

Mr. Bailey kept himself from laughing at Arthur's sudden giddiness; it had been too long since he'd seen the prince so happy. The master tailor couldn't help himself when the prince was lifted off his feet. He placed a hand on Aston's shoulder, remembering when they had been like that. So long ago, it had been the former queen that Mr. Bailey had feared.

Arthur clung to the other, tightly, and he never wanted to let go. Never. This moment was the most precious in his entire life. Even though he was homosexual, his father, the king, approved. How couldn't that be amazing? He even was about to cry.

"I-I love you so much.." he whimpered

Alfred held his prince closer, kissing Arthur's forehead, "Don't cry, love."

King Aston watched them for a time; worried from the future of the kingdom, but delighted that his son had found true happiness.

The king cleared his throat, "There are several nobles waiting outside. Why don't you two go to the gardens?"

Arthur pulled away from Alfred and offered a nod.

"Of course Father," Arthur smiled, and left off with Alfred.

Of course, they shouldn't be behaving like this no matter what. He knew his father have had a problem with love since his mother died. Well, he used to, but for the last years, he had seemed happy.

Alfred set Arthur on his feet and started walking out with him, keeping one of the prince's hands in his. Nothing could have made this moment better as he strolled along the hallways with his beloved. Then, an enraged shout caught his attention. Turning toward the source, he panicked at the sight of the French princess running toward the. A dagger was held high in her hands.

"You choose that filth over me," Jocelynn screamed as she closed in on them, "I'll kill you, Arthur Kirkland!"

Alfred shoved Arthur out of the way and not a moment too late. The dagger was mercilessly plunged through his upper right shoulder. It would have hit Arthur's heart if not for the tailor. Jocelynn was forced to let go of the blade by Mr. Bailey, who had seen her running for his favored boys. Alfred fell to the ground; his eyes were closed lightly as he tried to ignore the blood soaking his shirt.

The master tailor hauled the princess away, kicking and screaming, to a nearby guard.

"This wretch tried to murder the prince," Mr. Bailey snarled as he handed her off to the guard, "Do something about her."

The guard quailed at the venom in the tailor's voice; most everyone knew that Mr. Bailey was a quiet, peaceful man and seeing him like this… The guard threw all courtesy to the wind, picked up the princess and hauled ass just to get away. The master tailor rushed back to Alfred and Arthur. His hands trembled as he removed the dagger and Alfred's shirt to check the wound.

Arthur's eyes were wide. The whole situation scared him so much. He was about to get kill- and then.. Alfred? Alfred!? Arthur crawled to him, crying as he placed a hand on Alfred's forehead, then his heart. It was still beating after all… for now. Arthur cried out loudly.

"Alfred!" He then saw Mr. Bailey, "M-Mr. Bailey! Please hurry!"

Arthur was out of words and had no idea what to do.

Alfred whimpered in agony as the last of the fabric was pulled away. A thick stream of blood made its way down his bare chest.

Mr. Bailey grabbed Arthur's shoulder, "Go find Alicia," he pointed down the hall, "Three doors down that way. Tell her to have her supplies ready."

The master tailor set about trying to stabilize the wound, using the bloodied white shirt to pin Alfred's arm to his body.

Arthur got up and ran. Ran as fast as he could. His lungs were burning; his heart was hammering. He found Alicia.

"A-Alicia! Have your supplies ready! A-Alfred is hurt!" he shouted, even though she only was two meters away.

Alicia, the king's personal physician, stumbled back as Arthur ran through the door. The red headed healer had been reorganizing her herbs when the prince had attempted to deafen her. Her soft face contorted into worry as she started removing jars from one of the many beds in the room.

"Calm down," she said quickly, then pointed at a chair, "And sit. Stay out of the way, my prince."

Alicia became something of a 5'2" twister, leaving order instead of chaos. Within a few minutes, Mr. Bailey walked into the room with a barely conscious Alfred in his arms. The shirt he'd used to bind the wound was partially soaked. Alicia directed the master tailor to set the boy down on one of the beds, then began untying the shirt.

"What happened?" she asked without looking up at either of them.

Arthur was sitting on the chair, glaring down. How should he say it? Just as it was? Well.. Wasn't that the best?

"The princess of France… she tried to kill me but Alfred saved me," he mumbled before looking up, "W-Will he survive?! He has to! H-He... please!"

Alicia glanced up at Mr. Bailey while she pulled out a small set of surgeon's tools, "James, explain. Hold him… I don't want him thrashing about."

Mr. Bailey nodded, pinning Alfred's arms, and spoke quietly, "It seems that I choose apprentices akin to myself. The wound was inflicted with a poignard."

Alicia started inspecting the wound. The boy was fortunate to say the least; the curved blade hadn't managed to severe the rotary cuff. With luck, he would still have use of his arm if he survived. She was hopeful as she began disinfecting the wound. Alfred had bled out quite a bit, but he seemed like a fighter to Alicia. He appeared to understand that he needed to keep as still as possible and even kept the tension out of his upper body as she began stitching the wound closed. Alicia had James help sit the boy up and finished closing the wound before coating in with another layer of the disinfectant and honey. She wrapped his shoulder and a better part of his torso in fresh linen cloth.

"So this is the one he abandoned Lady Jocelynn for?" she asked curiously.

"That wench," Mr. Bailey hissed, "is no lady."

Arthur was just sitting on the chair. All the thoughts were filling his head and it almost made him sick. What if Alfred died? What if he would get damaged somehow? What if- What if… All those questions buzzed like hornets in his mind, stinging at every chance they got. He rested his head in his hands, biting his lower lip before tugging his hair.

"Alfred… please," he spoke in a broken whisper.

In the end, he couldn't finish his sentence. He got up and left the room. He wouldn't want to see Alfred dead if it should happen.

Alicia looked up when Arthur left the room, "Go after him, will you? I've got this one. The prince looks like needs a shoulder, if you get my meaning."

The red head piled a few pillows behind Alfred and helped him lay back down. She went to get a clean wash cloth as Mr. Bailey ran off after Arthur. After soaking it in cool water, she placed it on Alfred's forehead. The boy would probably run a temperature for several hours and was just beginning to show the signs of it.

Mr. Bailey caught up to Arthur a few feet from the door and spoke kindly, "Arthur… are you alright?"

Arthur cried softly before turning to Mr. Bailey, hugging him tightly. He wasn't afraid to cry for Alfred and not fearful of showing Bailey his tears.

"W-What if he dies?! I don't know what I should do. She tried to kill me but Alfred protected me. It should have been me," he whimpered, biting his lip and sobbing hard.

How pathetic, to cry this much but Arthur had never loved anyone like this. Never…

Mr. Bailey held his prince, rubbing soothing circles on his back, "Arthur, you can't think like that… have faith in Alicia. Her skills have saved my life and the life of your father numerous times. There is no one else in this castle I trust more for such an injury."

Alicia cleaned up the area and sat down on the bed across from Alfred with her knitting. As she worked on the scarf, she sang an old lullaby she'd heard as a child, hoping that the Gaelic tune calm the prince's lover. Within a short amount of time, she heard him begin to snore delicately.

Arthur closed his eyes, sighing, "My father is happy to have you."

If only Arthur had known. A moment passed before he pulled away with a little smile and wiped his eyes.

"Thank you, Mr. Bailey… with you, it's like having two fathers."

Mr. Bailey gave Arthur a kind smile and caught a tear that the prince had missed, "I'll always be here if you need me, Arthur. I don't know if your father ever told you, but… your mother, God rest her soul, made me your godfather before she passed."

What the master tailor didn't say was that the queen had known how James had felt for her husband and her child. Lady Elizabeth had spent a great deal of time being fawned over by the tailor while she was pregnant, which had led to her decision. She knew that the child wouldn't be spoiled, but loved and cared for. Mr. Bailey had lived up to her expectations and more, all for the sake of Arthur.

Arthur smiled softly and hugged Bailey again. It made him so happy.

"I kinda had the feeling," he laughed half-heartedly and smiled, "You know, if I could get one wish, I'd wish for you to live forever with my dad. You both deserve eternal life and both of you are good friends."

Mr. Bailey brushed part of Arthur's hair from his face, "It's a fine thing to wish for."

There were so many things the master tailor wanted to tell his prince, but knew the boy didn't need to bear the burden just yet. He'd faced enough for the day.

"Let's go back, shall we?" he asked and returned the smile, "I'm sure Alfred will want you there when he comes around."

Arthur smiled softly and offered a kind nod, "Thank you. I really appreciate how you always help me."

The prince hugged Mr. Bailey quickly before walking back to the room. He sat down on the chair and leaned back as he waited.

"Chun do sonas," Mr. Bailey smiled kindly, then followed Arthur back into the room and took a seat next to Alicia, "How bad was it?" ((For your happiness))

Alicia kept knitting, not bothering to look up as she replied, "He was very lucky. None of the major veins or muscles were severed. I suspect that he will make a full recovery, given a month or so."

Mr. Bailey nodded and remained silent. He alternated watching Alicia knit, Alfred sleep and glancing over at Arthur. Several minutes passed in that semi-comfortable silence. The master tailor looked up at the door as the sound of heavy footsteps caught his attention. Moments later, King François walked through the door, red faced with the most unusual expression. It was some cross between anger, anxiety and curiosity. The royal had begun to walk toward Arthur, but came face to face with a highly defensive Mr. Bailey.

"Can I help your Excellency?" the master tailor asked as courteously as he could manage.

King François stared past the tailor and spoke as though emotion was trying to choke off the words, "Those boys... my daughter... _Explain._"

Arthur got up, walked in front of Mr. Bailey. This was the duty as a prince and no one else, not even the master tailor. It didn't matter what happened.

"I refuse the engagement with your daughter. I have fallen in love with the royal tailor, Alfred," he stated, staring right into the angry kings eyes, expecting the worst.

"That's not what I meant, boy," King François snapped. The words were still choppy and thickly accented, "Your father," he spat the word, "told me that Jocelynn had tried to-"

"Tried to kill Arthur," Mr. Bailey finished, gritting his teeth, "Twice, if your Excellency wishes to be accurate."

Tension hung thick in the air. Alicia put her knitting down and glared at the gathering. The medic had just about had enough of this. This was foolish. Childish, even. She expected the two grown men and the young prince to behave better, especially in the medic's haven. She would _not_ permit such idiotic fighting in her presence. Getting up from the bed, Alicia walked over to the arguing men with unholy fire blazing in her green eyes.

"Take this elsewhere or so help me Lugh, I will poison all of you! Alfred is hurt and I'm sick of hearing you bicker like old women. Get. _Out!_"

Arthur narrowed his eyes and stared at her for a moment.

"I am sick of being a prince," he growled, "Arthur be like this, be like that. Do this, do that. Marry this girl. Be friends with him. Don't go outside of the castle's walls. Do you have any idea how it is?! None of you do! You all have seen the world out there! I have only seen what one can see through my window! You are all selfish, except Mr. Bailey; he is the only one who understand!"

Arthur glared at the king before leaving the room, slamming the door.

Mr. Bailey and the royal were quickly shoved out the door after Arthur. The riled medic was at her wits end by the time her attention turned back to the now awake and very much startled Alfred. The boy looked been through hell and back; terror was clear in those sky blue eyes. Alicia sighed, walking back to the bed adjacent to Alfred and sat down.

"Hello there, dear heart," she spoke soothingly, "How are you feeling?"

Alfred was, in short, in pain. His shoulder throbbed with renewed vigor as adrenaline coursed through his veins. It took him a moment to calm down enough to realize where he was and who was speaking to him.

"My shoulder hurts a bit," he mumbled, then looked around, "Alicia.. where's Arthur?"

Arthur just kept walking, ignoring everyone and everything. Why would she try to kill him? The medic, didn't even know how important it was and Alfred wasn't royal so there was no way he could understand. And the French king… he made it sound like it was a bad thing that Arthur wasn't dead.

"Leave me the bloody hell alone!" he growled back to them.

Alicia fumed quietly, then walked to the door. Poking her head out, she saw Arthur about to turn the corner.

"Prince! He's awake. Get back here," she squalled after him.

King François and Mr. Bailey had walked off in the opposite direction, talking about something that the medic didn't care to know. Alicia's focus was on the two sixteen year olds and how much she wanted to smack one of them. She'd never cause permanent harm to either of them, but the idea was somewhat intriguing.

Arthur frowned. He didn't even want to go back, but he did, for Alfred. He returned to the room, not looking at anyone but Alfred. His love was indeed awake. Arthur smiled and walked to him, hugging him gently and making sure not to hurt him.

"Alfred.." he whispered.

Alicia took her seat on the adjacent bed again and began knitting. She watched them out of the corner of her eye, just in case they did something that would cause further harm to Alfred's shoulder.

Alfred reached up with his good arm and stroked Arthur's hair. He sighed contentedly at the contact. He hadn't been sure that the noble was physically alright until then. Anxiety fell away, leaving him calm for the time being. He kissed his prince's cheek, smiling.

"Are you alright? Jocelyn..." Alfred cut the sentence off, lost in thought, '_What had happened to her?'_

"I-I don't really know, Al.. Just- Yes, I am fine," he tried to explain as he slowly sat down on the edge of the bed.

The prince began stroking the dear tailor's cheek. It was soft and warm.

"Thank you… for saving my life," he leaned down and kissed his forehead.

Alfred nuzzled into the prince's touch, "I don't think I would have survived if you hadn't..."

Alicia rolled her eyes and attempted to focus on her scarf. This was almost as bad as watching Mr. Bailey and King Aston. The lovey dovey atmosphere they created was sickeningly sweet to her. Thinking of the king brought up an interesting memory.

"Pardon me, you two," she said, not bothering to look up as she counted her stitches, "But King Aston's herald was wanting a word with you later. I can tell you what he wanted to now, if you like. Also, the princess is under house arrest."

Arthur thought for a moment before nodding, "Tell me now, please."

The prince got up and walked to the medic. He wondered what it could be. When he reached her, Arthur also realized how short she was compared to him.

Alicia shrugged, "King Aston asked Reynold to look into Alfred's family history. The findings, from what I hear, are the only reason he approved of this."

The medic paused to gesture at the two of them, smirking slightly. She recalled how flustered Mr. Bailey had been when the master tailor had told her. It might have had something to do with what Aston had done to him earlier, but she'd put that far from her mind. She didn't need to ponder their personal life.

"There was a high noble who had been at court during the time of the king's great grandfather, Sir Godfrey of York. The title, it seemed, was passed down to your father, Alfred."

Alfred turned his head to look at Alicia. The red head snickered at his bug eyed expression.

Arthur blinked twice, "What?"

The prince didn't really understand what she meant. It wasn't like she was bad at explaining, but this…? Really? What did she mean, exactly? Arthur shrugged. He didn't even know why it would matter, as long he and Alfred loved each other, right?

"You heard me," Alicia laughed, "Alfred is just as much a blue-blood as you are, my prince."

She watched the blood drain from Alfred's face. For a moment, she worried that the news might have been too much for him. Alicia decided to keep the second half of the news to herself. King Aston was planning on making Alfred one of his knights, if the young tailor so chose.

Arthur looked back at Alfred, smiling brightly before running back to him, "It's amazing, Alfred! Did you hear it?" Arthur hugged him tightly. He was happy, really happy. Thank god it hadn't been foul news.

Alfred winced, crying out in pain. The sudden movement had jostled his shoulder.

Alicia's eye twitched menacingly, "Be careful! This may be wonderful news, but that's no reason to injure him further."

The medic was tempted to make the prince leave. If he didn't shape up, she would. The boy was too giddy and careless for her liking.

Arthur pulled away and narrowed his eyes slightly. He didn't like her, not at all. And soon enough, he said something he never had thought he would. Something he shouldn't. Something no prince should… He knew he shouldn't have said it, but why did she have to destroy the moment?

"I am more worth than you. Be quiet. It is an order," he snapped and glared away.

Alicia laughed at the prince's statement then spat the venom-laced words, "I take orders from no man, little boy."

Alfred's good hand clenched the sheets as he tried to bite back the pain. He knew that Arthur hadn't meant to cause him harm, but the royal's words sounded cold, almost bitter. _'He should be thanking Alicia,'_ the tailor thought to himself. After all, if it hadn't been for the Irish healer, he would have likely died.

And Arthur knew it, but his pride was injured now. His pride and stubbornness had caused him a lot of problems through time. Now, he didn't want to lose this; he wanted to have the last word. Arthur walked towards her.

"You work under me, so you do as I say. Am I clear enough?" he growled at her, staring right into her eyes.

"To be precise," Alicia chortled, "I work with your father. At least he understands who I am, my dear nephew."

Alicia's sister had married King Aston out of a sense of duty, rather than love. The redhead had followed her older sibling to England when she had heard about the pregnancy. It'd only taken her a few days to realize several things. First, that her sister and the master tailor were quite close. Second, that the tailor was, in short, a homosexual. Piecing the rest together was less than difficult.

"You little..." Arthur moved away, far away from everyone in the room.

Idiots, all of them. Even Alfred would think Arthur was stupid now. Arthur left the room, walking to his own messy, dark room. He slammed the door and began pacing around in the room, trying to calm down. He did lose. How embarrassing… how could he show his face again? In rage and anger, he walked to the window, stared out and ripped the curtains down.

"Your lover has quite the temper, doesn't he, Alfred?" she asked, laughing.

Alfred just looked at the door, wishing his noble had stayed. A faint blush graced his features as thoughts of the previous night crossed his mind. He lamented the loss of that warm, gentle embrace.

The healer tended to his shoulder about an hour or so later; washing the wound and rebandaging it. Shortly after, he fell asleep again.

* * *

Afterward: We're about 400 views away from having 5000 across all of the fanfics on his account! Holy Crow! So, as a thank you to all the awesome people who've read, reviewed and otherwise given their support, I'm going to do a series of one-shot requests. Send me your thoughts and I'll try my best to write something epic. Try to keep it in the Hetalia verse, though.


End file.
